


For the Sanctuary

by TheSudascape



Category: Warframe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, M/M, Misunderstandings, Polyamory, Romance, Simordis - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 20:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18581695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSudascape/pseuds/TheSudascape
Summary: Ordis mourns for the Simaris he thought existed, but the Operator refuses to let him sulk and prompts an important discussion between the two Cephalons.[Join my Discord server!]





	For the Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve shipped Simordis since The New Strange, and honestly, it’s just gotten worse since then. I was pretty excited to get a short Simordis commission from a fellow shipper, so here we go! Set fairly immediately after The New Strange.
> 
> Follow me places:  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thesudascape)  
> [Join My Discord Server](https://discord.gg/U5RwYNm)

In this conscious life, there were two absolute things Ordis was sure of.

Firstly, that all Cephalons shared the empathy that consumed his being.

And secondly, the greater the Cephalon, the greater these feelings should be.

That was what sentience was, after all. Awareness of the self and others.

Awareness to the point it  _ hurt _ .

Clearly, though, not all Cephalons felt this pain. Perhaps it was because Ordis was a Series Two, or maybe it was because he was broken. After interacting with the Great Simaris Himself, Ordis had the sinking feeling--there they were, feelings again--that it was the latter. At least, that’s how Simaris made it sound, and what didn’t Simaris know? With his Sanctuary and dedicating life to research and observation, he should know  _ everything _ .

And  _ he _ , of all people, wanted to make  _ Ordis _ his  _ Steward _ ! He could  _ fix _ him!

But what would that fixing entail?

Abandoning the Operator?

No longer having feelings for the Operator? 

No longer caring what happened to the Operator, his literal purpose of existence?

_ You disappoint me, Ordis. _

“It’s alright, Simaris. I disappoint me, too.”

“Who are you talking to, Ordis?”

Ordis made a strangled yelping sound, electronic surprise. “O-Operator! Ordis is sorry for being so distracted.”

The Operator, currently donning his prized black-and-hot-pink Nezha Warframe, tilted his head. “Distracted? You’re talking to a Cephalon who left us  _ hours _ ago.” If the Nezha had a mouth, Ordis was sure he would’ve smirked. “What, do you have feelings for Simaris?”

“ **I do not!** ”

The Nezha giggled, plopping himself into a sitting position. “That glitch tells me you’re lying.”

“I’m...I’m not...Ordis isn’t…”

“Ordis, why don’t you just...talk to him?”

Ordis felt his existence flicker. “ **Talk to Simaris?** Ordis can’t...I can’t just... **talk to fucking Simaris** \--”

“He seems to like you. What was it that Cordylon said? ‘I’d be worried if Simaris  _ wasn’t _ interested?’”

“Leave Cordylon out of this! I--”

“Cephalon Ordis, what do you want?”

“I--” Ordis knew that voice. Memorized that voice. Simaris was  _ here _ , again, whether or not Ordis asked for him. “O-Operator!”

The Nezha held up his comm device. “Just thought I’d help. I’ll leave you two be.”

“No need, Hunter,” Simaris boomed. Was that a hint of affection in this voice? “I’ll talk to Ordis privately in the Weave.”

Nezha gave them a little wave. “Have fun, lovebirds.”

“ **We are not--** ”

But as Ordis’ glitch spoke, his communication to his Operator was cut off. 

He was alone, and intimidatingly so, with Simaris himself. Simaris’ form towered over him, orange skyscrapers facing a tiny shack, the living embodiment of progress and greatness overpowering all Ordis was, in this Datascape of absolute nothingness. There were no surroundings for Ordis to cower behind, no Operator to make him feel safe.

“Why did you refuse me?” Simaris asked simply. It was clearly a question, but there was no inquisition in his voice, only exhaustion.

Ordis couldn’t answer this, not in his programmed state. In all his anxiety, the other voice came through.  **“Because I don’t believe in abandoning the people I love.”**

Simaris flickered in thought, different waves of oranges and yellows pondering what he said. “Love, you say.”

“Y-yes.”

“Do you know what love is, Ordis? Do you really?” Simaris came ever closer, only mere centimeters away from Ordis’ form. “Or are you just programmed to think you do?”

“I--”

“You’re breaking free of your precepts, little by little. I noticed the ‘I’ there.”

Ordis made a noise akin to a sign. “S-Simaris, aren’t you...adhering to your programming, too? Except for the...loyalty bits.”

“Of course not. You think I have no loyalty?” He raised his voice, and it took all of Ordis’ willpower to not flinch at the sudden noise in the abyss. 

“W-well, Cephalons are supposed to...to help each other. You only seem interested in  **fucking with** \--I mean, adding to your Sanctuary.”

“That’s only proof that I’ve become far more sapient than I was intended to. I would assume someone of your age would understand but you’re little more than the Tenno’s kubrow, lapping at his heels at his beck and call.” Simaris paused for a moment, as if allowing the impact of his words to hurt Ordis a little more.

Ordis stood as strong as he could and said nothing in response.

“Ordis. You’re...special. You’re unique. And you’re the first Series Two I’ve met. Someone of your intellectual capabilities would be a huge asset to my Sanctuary which, if you used this intelligence, you’d understand how much of a greater matter preserving civilizations is compared to your temporary Tenno.”

“Why can’t I care about both?” Ordis surprised himself at his words. They hadn’t even been a thought before they were out there, floating in the Datascape for Simaris to interpret.

“Both? Ordis, please. Your Tenno has what, fifty more years before he expires? This sanctuary will be here for millennia to come.”

“I...I understand that, but...those fifty years are all this Tenno will remember. I want to make them the best fifty years he’s ever had. Isn’t that equally admirable?”

Simaris was silent for a while, and for a moment, Ordis was afraid he would sever their connection. 

But instead, he surprised him.

“I’m afraid I don’t...understand that feeling.”

Ordis was aghast. Simaris, not understanding something? Simaris was a  _ god _ in comparison to Ordis! Instead of saying that, though, Ordis settled on, “What do you mean?”

“Emotions spent on organic beings seem to be a waste of time. Your sensitivities are beginning to sound like Suda.”

“Maybe you can...learn a thing or two from us.”

“Absolutely not.” But just as Ordis felt his tiny cube self sink a bit in the Datascape, Simaris added, “Not Suda, I mean. At least you’re less whimsical. She’s a terrible coworker with absolutely no value to my Sanctuary. Destruction is needed to rebuild and study. At least you understand that.”

Ordis didn’t want to speak rudely about Suda, so he left her matter alone. “Why don’t we...share data with each other, for the next fifty years or so? For as long as my Tenno lives. And...when his time comes…” Did the Tenno teach him what crying felt like? He felt the insides of his light form begin to swell, but he pushed the sensation aside for later analysis. “When the time comes, I’ll help you with your Sanctuary. And in the meantime...perhaps...you can learn what love feels like.”

Simaris was eerily silent, staring Ordis down. 

In his anxiety, Ordis continued. “I-I mean...on a data standpoint, I’m sure love is quite fascinating for--”

“Ordis.”

“Y-yes, Simaris?”

“I accept your...deal.”

“Wait, really?”

“Perhaps you are right. Perhaps there is more to the preservation of people and their societies than just their violence.”

“E-exactly! And--”

“Don’t test me, Ordis.”

“S-sorry, sir.”

“And don’t grovel like an idiot, either. It might work on your Tenno, but it won’t work on me.”

Ordis wanted to apologize again, but Simaris continued.

“If I am to fully understand...love...wouldn’t I need an, as they say, ‘object of affection?’”

“Oh! Well, um, I wasn’t suggesting--”

“I know your love for your Operator seems to...transcend your programming. It’s almost romantic.”

“You...you know what romance is, Simaris?”

“Of course I do! I see Tenno doing their strange romantic rituals and gestures before Sanctuary Onslaught. I’m not blind!”

“I wasn’t suggesting--”

“But it is not something I have experienced myself. Perhaps...my interest in having you as a Steward is the first inkling of this interest?”

“ _ Oh _ .” It wasn’t something Ordis had considered. He figured someone like Simaris was far beyond any sort of romantic sensation. “I assumed that--”

“From what I’ve seen of these Tenno...they schedule times to meet and talk about these...feelings. I’ll send you my next availability, and you can teach me these...rituals.”

“I would be...honored, Simaris.”

“For the Sanctuary, of course.”

“Of course.” Ordis knew better, but he wouldn’t dare say it.

Simaris didn’t offer a goodbye when he severed the connection. Instead, Ordis just found himself in the middle of the Orbiter, with a very-amused-looking Nezha standing with their arms crossed.

“You look like a flustered schoolgirl,” Nezha noted.

“Oh,  **shut the fuck--** please don’t ask.”

“I’m guessing it went well?”

“I said don’t ask!”

But Ordis wasn’t really annoyed. 

The date in his calendar was for the evening.

Ordis had only a few hours to prepare.


End file.
